


Gift Box

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 18:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11340996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder in a confined space with a naked Krycek.





	Gift Box

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Gift Box By Rachel Lee Arlington

Date: Sat, 14 Jun 1997 19:11:56 -0400 (EDT)

"Gift Box"  
By Rachel Lee Arlington  
  
Please forward to ATXC  
Please Archive  
NC17, Slash, SH  
No spoilers but you need to know your Arlington stories to get all the references.

CERT: NC17. Slash. Yummy yummy slash. Mulder and Krycek naked and happy. How people can be offended by tales of good looking guys having fun with each other is completely beyond me. But if you are the type to take offence, well take it and leave. Actually this is my first bona fide slasher. All my other stories are guy/girl. Except for the guy/dog one, obviously. So I guess this means I'm ready to play with the big boys. So...let's play.  
THEME: Hmm. The theme is that Nicole wanted me to try out the fanfic challenge that she came up with. 'Mulder in a confined space with a naked Krycek'. I couldn't do it because I couldn't think of a back story. So then I realized that back stories are an unnecessary luxury. Problem solved.   
Nicole, this butt's for you.

* * *

"GIFT BOX"  
By Rachel Lee Arlington.

Mulder blinks, blinks again. It makes no difference. The darkness surrounding him is so complete that only the weight of his eyelids tells him whether his eyes are open or closed. He casts his mind back, trying to figure out what happened. The last thing he remembers is standing in his basement office, putting his coat on, ready to go home for the evening. 

Maybe the power went, he thinks. With no windows, his office is stygian black with the lights off. But that can't be right. For one thing, he's sitting on the ground, or floor, or whatever, his back against the wall. He puts his hands down on either side of his legs. Blanket. Over a hard surface: stone or concrete. He reaches behind him, touching the wall he's leaning against: rough concrete. 

"What the..." he murmurs to himself, perplexed.

"Hi Mulder."

Mulder jerks onto his knees, fumbling to sweep his coat out of the way, unsure if he's armed or if his gun is still in the filing cabinet back in the office. 

"Who is that?" Mulder snaps out the question, but he already knows the answer. He would know that voice anywhere: low and husky without being deep; slow yet bantering.

"It's me: Alex Krycek. Hang on, let me get a little light on this subject." Krycek's tone is casual, conversational. 

Mulder hears a little click, and the small flashlight in Krycek's hand comes on, shedding a clean white light over the scene. It becomes instantly apparent to Mulder what has happened. He has gone mad. He must have been standing in his office putting on his coat and he went mad. It's the only possible explanation.

They are in a little concrete cavity, about eight feet by four, and five feet high. It has no windows, no door, no sign of how they got in or how they are going to get out again. The floor is covered with a dark red and brown striped blanket, of the kind Mulder associates with picnics and beach trips. Mulder, on his knees, is close to the wall at one end of this cavity; Krycek is at the other, sitting cross legged. Naked. 

Mulder can usually scrape up a decent show of claustrophobia, but shock and bewilderment seem to have removed any mere fear he might feel. He keeps fumbling for his gun, but the urgency has gone out of his movements. 

"What...what the hell is going on? Where are we? Where...where are your clothes?" 

"Right here." Krycek dips the flashlight momentarily, using its beam to point out a pile of garments in the corner at his side. Mulder can make out blue denim, white t shirting, black leather and two black canvas basketball boots. 

"Why did you take them off, for God's sake?"

"She made me." Krycek says in a matter of fact tone.

"She who?" Mulder asks in desperation.

"Rachel."

"Rachel?!?" Mulder knows he's lost his mind, it's just not what he thought insanity would be like.

"Arlington. Mulder, you're in an Arlington story again." Krycek plays the flashlight idly over Mulder's coat, then up the wall and over the ceiling. 

Mulder feels his heart sink. It's worse than insanity. He kneels down heavily, looks down, then back up at Krycek.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" He asks, hearing the tremor in his voice and hating himself for it, but powerless to correct it.

"Oh Mulder, relax." Krycek is using the flashlight beam to spell out his name in Cyrillic characters on the ceiling. "She's okay."

"Easy for you to say," Mulder retorts. Irritation at Krycek's calm indifference strengthens his voice again. "You're not the one she spends her time tormenting." 

Krycek momentarily stops tracing Russian swear words with the flashlight and shines it towards Mulder.

"I guess not. There was that thing with the Rat Trap, but I know she regrets that. Apart from that she's always been very decent to me. But I still think you should relax. She likes you."

"Yeah right. She likes me because she can use me to wipe your feet on." Mulder says it before he realizes how whiny and hard done by it's going to sound. Krycek raises his eyebrows, and purses his lips in slight disapproval of Mulder's tone, but says nothing. Mulder tries again. "I just mean she makes it clear she thinks the world of you, and zip of me."

Krycek is trying to get the beam of the flashlight to shine round the edge of Mulder's coat. "She thinks you lack moral fibre." 

"And you don't?" Mulder says indignantly.

"I have the courage of my convictions." Krycek gives up trying to get light to shine in a curve, and gives Mulder his attention. "She likes bad guys. She likes the way I always keep my eye on the ball. She likes the way I keep quiet when you're thumping the shit out of me."

Mulder winces at this reminder of his sins against Rachel's darling.

"She's gonna kill me. I just know it."

"Mulder." Krycek leans on the name. "Relax. She isn't going to kill you. That's not what you're here for."

"So what am I here for?" Mulder manages to ask, though he's dreading the answer. That crazy bitch has never been good news for him. The nearest thing to peace she ever allowed him was babysitting Scully's spoilt mutt.

"She wants you to confront your true feelings."

"Excuse me?" 

"She wants you to admit you have the hots for me." Krycek sounds like he's discussing the weather.

"She wants *what* ?" Mulder is left speechless for a second, but then he recovers enough to stammer out: "Where does she get this stuff from? She's a maniac, she must be. I've never given any...I'm in love with Scully. I'm in love with your sister, for cryin' out loud. How can she think I'm gay? You're the one that was dreaming of me, after Scully gave you that seeing to."

Krycek lifts his eyebrows as high as they will go. "I told you, she regrets that."

"So now I'm supposed to declare my undying love for you, so you can say 'thanks but no thanks Mulder' and do that little thing with your mouth that she finds so irresistible." Mulder's voice starts getting an angry edge to it. 

"What makes you think I'm going to turn you down?" Krycek gives his voice a little warmth.

"Well obviously. I don't see Rachel letting me put my unworthy hands anywhere near you, with or without your consent. So obviously she wants me to say it so you can humiliate me by saying no."

"Mulder." Krycek infuses as much warmth and encouragement into his voice as he can. "I really don't think you know what she's about. She likes you a lot."

"Yeah sure." Mulder's tone is sarcastic, but his eyes stay on Krycek's face, hoping for further reassurance.

"And you could make her like you a lot more if you wanted."

"If I wanted? I'm not sure I want anything to do with her. She's out of her mind."

"Oh Mulder. 'Friends in high places'. Think of it as cultivating an influential patron. A source. How do you think I know so much about what goes on? Rachel tells me." 

"She does?"

"Uh huh. Worth a little effort, wouldn't you say?"

"So what would I have to do?"

"Well, for a start, you're going to have to own up about being gay."

Mulder closes his eyes, sighs painfully, then opens his eyes again.

"Okay." He says in a small voice.

"I think she's looking for a little more than that."

"What then? What does she want me to say?" 

"I'll ask, you answer, okay?"

"Okay."

"How long have you been gay?"

"Always. I always knew. How do you think I stood there in that motel room with Scully in her underwear and didn't make a grab for her?"

"What about Phoebe?"

"What about her? Fuck it, she had iron balls and took it up the ass. Half the time I think she was a he in drag."

"And Bambi?"

"Gimme a break. She was helping me combat the invasion of earth by bio-mechanical cockroaches. Cute theory about UFO's. But she smelt of DDT."

"Sheriff White?"

"Now wait a minute. That's one that proves I am gay. Flat on my back with half a bottle of orange vodka sherbet in me and a six foot blonde writhing around on top and I was never so glad to see Scully in my life."

"Kristen?"

"So I kissed her. Whoppee fuckin' do. I get a rise out of vampires. Sue me. I didn't screw her though. Come on, one minute I'm in the bathroom shaving, the next I'm asleep in an armchair fully dressed. You got nothing that will stand up in a court of law."

"Marita?"

Mulder groans, bows his head.

"The fuckin' Uniblonder. Somebody save me. Did you see the way she was looking at me when I was asleep in her armchair? She was drooling. I felt like I had a sprig of parsley on my head. She's gonna squeeze lemon juice over me and eat me. I'm doomed."

Krycek smiles, his teeth making a little glint in the light. "You know, if Rachel was on your side you could tell Marita to take a hike."

"She's a source." Mulder sounds like he's torn.

"Rachel would get you another source. Another blond source. Have you seen Fairland yet?"

"Uh uh. Nice?"

"Better than nice. He's a reworking of the Marine Scully slept with."

"DeMont?"

"That's the one. Blond crewcut, amber eyes, mouth like a strawberry."

"But Fairland works for you." Mulder sounds like he's half convinced.

"Maybe his heart isn't in it. Maybe he's going to fall for you."

"You think that could happen?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you Mulder. Get Rachel on your side and anything you want to happen can happen. She made me a ranking member of the Consortium and a KGB Major. You think she wouldn't do the same for you? You get that woman to like you and you'll have a fully functioning UFO in the kitchen and three Grays in the living room and AD Skinner handcuffed to the bed by breakfast time tomorrow."

Mulder winces slightly. "AD Skinner? He scares the shit out of me."

"Even in handcuffs?" Krycek's voice is nicely judged mixture of humor and disbelief. Mulder's eyes brighten somewhat. 

"He's got a great body. Think he'd go for it?"

"Mulder, Mulder. You're still not listening. You get Rachel working for you and Skinner will put the handcuffs on himself and beg for it."

"Oh man." Mulder breathes the words out. He catches his lower lip in his teeth, trying to wipe out the mental picture of his boss naked and horny and helpless. But then he shakes his head once, and the light goes out of his eyes. "Forget it. She's not gonna do that for me. For you - no problem. But she doesn't like me. I'm telling you, she thinks I'm a creep." 

Krycek boosts closer to Mulder, setting the flashlight on end on the floor. Its light shines onto the ceiling and bounces back down on the two men. 

"She thinks you're a babe." Krycek's voice is as seductive as he knows how to make it. Mulder looks at him, uncertain. 

"That's why she spends more text on your haircut than she does on my entire body. Yeah right." Mulder sounds like he'd love to be convinced.

"It's a great haircut," Krycek smiles, moving even closer to Mulder.

"Stupid ass," Mulder smiles back. He lifts one hand, putting it on the front of Krycek's hair and pushing him gently. Then the push turns into a caress, as he strokes his hand back over Krycek's short dark hair, his fingers moulding to the sleek curves of his skull. "Maybe I should get the same. Think she'd go for me then?"

"Oh no. No, she likes your hair the way it is. She likes this part..." Krycek pulls gently on the lock of hair that falls forward onto Mulder's forehead, then pushes it back, combing his fingers through the thick soft mass, just to see the heavy forelock slip forwards again.

"What about if I had it darker?" Mulder is stroking his fingertips on the bristle over Krycek's ear.

"I'm telling you. It's fine as it is. She actually prefers the color of your hair. Mine is too like hers to be exciting. She loves the way your hair is kind of taupe brown. No red tones at all. Hazel hair, that's what she says."

"Hazel hair, hazel eyes, huh?"

"Oh no, you better not let her hear you say that. She doesn't approve of the word 'hazel' being applied to your eyes. She doesn't think it does them justice."

"Krycek, she doesn't know I have eyes. She's too busy studying yours, and detailing how nice they are. The color. They are a weird color you know. Like the sea. Like the sea when you say 'it's green', only it isn't. It's not green and it's not blue, it's...the color of your eyes." Mulder strokes his fingertips over the fine skin under Krycek's eyes, then up over his eyebrows. "And your eyelashes. You look like you're wearing mascara. You're not are you?"

"No. And I don't have them dyed either. You're changing the subject. She thinks you have beautiful eyes. She likes the way they're all little bits of different colors."

"They are?"

"Uh huh." Krycek leans in closer to Mulder, looking across his face, getting the light between him and Mulder's eyes. "Lets see. There's a kind of ring around the outside: that's greeney gray. Then there's a band of sort of grayish green. But it has lines in it. Gray. Sort of gray. Maybe taupe. Maybe smoke blue. And around the middle they're brown. Sort of. Maybe that's more of an amber color. Or something." Krycek pulls back a fraction, smiling into Mulder's two eyes instead of studying one. "I guess that's why she doesn't mention them. They're impossible to explain. Nice eyebrows too. Silky. She rates silky eyebrows." He smooths them out as he says it.

Mulder frowns, exercising his silky eyebrows. "I don't frown right. She flips every time you do. I don't have a crease on the bridge of my nose."

"You don't need one. You get two little folds between your eyebrows. That does it just as well." Krycek's fingertips trace over Mulder's frown, smoothing it out, then drifting down over the bridge of his nose.

"Don't tell me she likes my nose. No one likes my nose. I don't like my nose. I'd get it bobbed if I had the nerve, but can you imagine the flack I'd get? FBI agents are supposed to have their minds on higher things."

Krycek smiles broadly. "Mulder, if I were you I wouldn't go on about noses, she's probably listening."

Mulder looks puzzled for a second, then light dawns. "Oh. You mean she has..." he lets the sentence trail off. Krycek nods once. "Jewish?" Mulder suggests. 

"Broken," Krycek supplies. "Kick in the face in a karate class. Why do you think she's fixated on how small mine is?" 

"Excuse me?"

"My nose Mulder. Don't get cute. She's wavering, but she's still on my side."

"Sorry. Though she seems to rate small. Your nose, your mouth...could you teach me to do that thing with the corners of your mouth? That woman is going to let you commune with an alien intelligence because you can tense up the corners of your mouth like that."

"Mulder believe me, there is *nothing* wrong with your mouth." Krycek almost growls out the words. 

"It's too big. And it has my foot in it most of the time."

"A contortionist. Great." It's Krycek's last coherent statement as he finds himself falling towards Mulder's lips. That bottom lip is a scandal. If he's wearing mascara Mulder is wearing lip gloss. The skin is wet and pink and just asking to be kissed. And his bottom lip is positively restrained compared to the way the fleshy center of his top lip rests on it. Krycek falls and falls and comes to rest with his mouth on Mulder's. Hot. Hot lips. Hot Lips. Then Mulder opens his mouth and Krycek loses his ability to think even in bad TV jokes. 

Krycek kisses like he's conducting a military operation. Cool, careful, restrained. Mulder kisses like he's eating watermelon. His tongue goes into Krycek's mouth and plunges into him and then pulls back, runs over his upper teeth, plunges against his tongue, draws back, presses Krycek's top lip against his own teeth, drives back into his mouth, straining as deep as possible, is gone as Mulder catches Krycek's lower lip between his teeth, pulling softly, then somehow tongue and teeth are both at the angle of Krycek's open mouth...For the first few seconds Krycek tries to impose some kind of order on the kiss, trying to hold Mulder off and then gradually let him deepen his exploration of his mouth. Then he realizes he's trying to impose order on an avalanche. Too late to run, he thinks. Just concentrate on staying alive. He brings his two hands up and snakes his fingers through Mulder's hair, holding his head. Mulder does the same, hands spread over the elegant curve of Krycek's skull. He keeps pushing against Krycek's mouth, urging his tongue as far into Krycek's throat as possible, then pulling back and biting and licking at Krycek's lips, at the skin around his mouth, then back in for another plunging thrusting kiss. Krycek hangs on as long as he can, but eventually he has to drag himself away, gasping for breath, wide eyed and shaken.

Mulder is gasping too, but his eyes are half closed, heavy with desire.

"Jesus Christ," Krycek manages. "You are some kisser. Don't you have to breathe?" 

"Come here you." Mulder gets hold of Krycek with one hand on the back of his neck and draws him to him again. Krycek takes a deep breath and plunges willingly back into the maelstrom. This time after Mulder has beaten and broken his mouth he moves to Krycek's jaw, biting softly at the skin under his chin, making Krycek moan out loud. As Mulder moves into the angle of Krycek's jaw and down the side of his throat he murmurs huskily:

"What else? Tell me what else she likes."

"Oh God." Krycek groans it out, then takes a deep breath, pulls his throat away from Mulder's mouth, tries to keep his head up straight, and slides his hands into the front of Mulder's coat, pushing it off his shoulders. "Take this off." 

Mulder complies, and the coat gets bundled up between the wall and Mulder's back. Between the two of them they get Mulder's jacket open and off him, and it gets thrown back towards the pile of Krycek's clothes. Mulder puts one hand up to Krycek's face, his thumb smoothing and smoothing over the corner of Krycek's mouth, massaging the flesh, while with his other hand he pulls open his tie, pulls it out from his shirt collar. Krycek can't seem to tear his gaze from Mulder's mouth. Everything about it - the shape, the color, the gleam, are all heightened by kissing. Mulder can't seem to tear his gaze from Krycek's eyes. The long tilted sweep of his eyelashes is making Mulder crazy.

Mulder takes his hand from Krycek's face and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "You're not telling me. Tell me."

Krycek makes a heroic effort and gets his eyes off Mulder's mouth. He sees what Mulder is doing. He takes a long shuddering breath in and lets it go again. His hands go up meet Mulder's. They kind of help and kind of hinder each other getting Mulder's shirt opened. "She likes..." Krycek falters as he slides his palms inside Mulder's shirt. "She likes the way you're built."

"I thought she liked you. I thought she liked a little serious muscle. I'm too long and lanky, surely." As he says it, Mulder is running his hands over Krycek's shoulders, up the thick ridge of muscle on each side of his neck, over the rounded cap of muscle on the tip of each shoulder, down each heavy bicep. 

"Don't fish for compliments," smiles Krycek, pushing Mulder's shirt off. Mulder pulls the sleeves off and the shirt sails over Krycek's head to join the jacket and Krycek's discarded clothes. "You're right, you're too lanky. Scrawny I would say." Krycek runs his hands over Mulder's long sinuous neck, onto his wide shoulders, down the lavish curves of his arms, the thick muscle of his chest. "And too hairy by half. No wonder she always takes my clothes off and leaves yours on." Krycek dips his head and licks at the crisp fine curls on Mulder's breastbone. Then he stretches his throat a little and closes his lips on one brown nipple. Mulder stirs under him, lifting his hips slightly, and makes a little sound in his throat. Krycek sucks gently, then pulls away slowly, teasingly. He looks up at Mulder, smiles, then dips his head to the other side, repeats the performance. 

Mulder tries to stay still, but his hips are developing the power of independent thought. They keep lifting and twisting and rocking. He tries to take Krycek by the shoulders and pull him onto him, but his hands get distracted by the smooth velvety texture of Krycek's skin, and slide downwards onto his chest. Krycek straightens up from kissing Mulder's chest, and lets his head fall back, exposing the long muscular line of his throat. Mulder leans forward, his lips taking great kissfuls of Krycek's neck, his smooth chest, the fine silky gold hair on his breastbone, around his nipple, the nipple itself. As Mulder catches up the hard tender flesh Krycek catches his breath and puts one hand to Mulder's head, pressing him close. 

Mulder gets the message and sucks hard, flicking his tongue. Krycek groans and stretches his head back even further. Mulder leans into him, pushing him backwards. Krycek leans back too, onto his elbow, onto his back. Mulder lets go of the nipple, takes his weight on his hands, one each side of Krycek's body, centers his weight, and lowers himself onto Krycek's recumbent form. Krycek groans and Mulder gasps and both men writhe hard as two erections get pushed together. Their eyes meet and they try to stare each other down as Mulder, his hands all over Krycek's shoulders and sides, rocks and thrusts against his groin, while Krycek, his hands all over Mulder's shoulders and back, lifts and heaves to meet him. Krycek gets his fingers into Mulder's belt loop.

"For Christ's sake, take these off." His voice is almost too husky to work. Mulder draws back onto his knees, pulls his belt open, unbuttons his waistband, unzips his fly. He has to ease his trousers down over the jutting angle of his erection. He heels his shoes off behind him, then pulls off trousers and socks all in one foul swoop, and crushes them into the angle of the wall behind him with his coat. Krycek, leaning up on his elbows, watches with bright eyed anticipation. He cops one eyeful of Mulder's underwear and whoops with laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" Mulder demands.

"Nothing." Krycek splutters. "Not a thing."

"Come on, what's so funny?" Mulder is getting defensive, annoyed even.

Krycek tries to say "nothing" but he's convulsed with laughter and is reduced to just shaking his head helplessly.

"Krycek you have two seconds to tell me what you're laughing at or the only satisfaction you're going to get is a self administered wank." 

The threat sobers Krycek enough to draw breath, and he manages to get the answer out after a couple of false starts, and only explodes into laughter on the last word.

"I just never saw...ha ha! I never saw..ha ha! I've never seen an FBI man in Star Wars boxer shorts before!"

Mulder looks down, horrified. Then his face breaks into a wide lopsided grin.

"She's a lunatic. I can't believe she thinks this is funny. The ones I had matched my tie. I guess I'm lucky I'm not wearing women's ones." 

Krycek rolls onto his stomach, pounding his fist on the blanket and sobbing for air between peals of laughter.

"Oh ha ha," Mulder says sarcastically. "So you're still her favorite. She wouldn't dream of doing this to you." He strips off the offending garment, and sends it sailing into the far corner to join Krycek's discarded clothing. Krycek raises his head in time to see it go by, and drops his head again, completely hysterical.

Mulder, half laughing, half annoyed, lowers himself to lie against Krycek's back, leaning on one elbow. He fits himself to the curve of Krycek's spine, his chin on Krycek's shoulder, one hand reaching forward onto his chest, one leg between Krycek's. The touch of body to body calms them both. Krycek rolls slightly onto his side, tucking in against Mulder more closely. He reaches back with one hand, his palm sliding over Mulder's side, down onto his narrow hip. Mulder idles his hand over Krycek's chest, finds one hard nipple and starts to tease gently, pinching and pulling. His mouth makes soft kissing motions on the smooth skin of Krycek's shoulder. Krycek's body loses the loose comfortable quality it had. Mulder feels the lean muscle of Krycek's flanks tense and tighten against his thighs. 

Mulder lets his hand slide down over rib cage and stomach, over muscle and smooth skin and fine hair, onto the ridge of Krycek's hip. Krycek stirs restlessly under his hand. Mulder goes to slide his hand further down, when the variation of texture under his fingers catches his attention. He cranes his neck to look down at Krycek's hip, can't see, has to sit up. 

"What's this?" His fingers trace out the line of tight white scar going from Krycek's hip into his pubic hair. "What happened?"

Krycek seems to have a problem concentrating on the question. He rolls onto his back, puts one hand on Mulder's bare back and tries to guide him away. 

"Seriously. What happened?"

"I don't know. Rachel did it to me."

Mulder's face loses a little of the dreamy relaxed quality it had. He opens his mouth to say something, changes his mind, closes his mouth carefully. He purses his lips together. Instead of making him look severe and serene it makes him look sulky and sexy. "She's crazy," he volunteers.

"Uh huh. Thank God. You think I'd be lying here hoping for a blow job if she was normal? I'd be stuck in Russia missing body parts and waiting for the end of season four."

Mulder leans back down to Krycek's mouth, but doesn't actually connect.

"Hoping for what?" He asks teasingly.

"Oh come on. If you can do it half as good as you kiss I'll fuckin' die."

Mulder kisses Krycek again, but this time it's only a tease. His mouth open, he laps and licks at Krycek's parted lips, but each time Krycek lifts his head Mulder pulls back fractionally and refuses to be drawn. Then he works his way down the front of Krycek's body, kissing a track over his chest, stopping at each nipple, then down his stomach. He hovers over Krycek's erection, breathing on the satin skin. Krycek's hard on lifts in little enthusiastic jerks. Krycek is holding his breath. Mulder swoops -

Kisses the fine skin of Krycek's hipbone. Krycek groans out loud.

"Quit messing. You're fuckin' killin' me."

"Ask nicely." Mulder has a pleasant sense of power. He knows he'll end up paying for this, but it's too good to resist. "If you ask nicely I might oblige." He can't believe he's getting away with this.

"Do it or I'll beat your fuckin' head off the wall. You mad bitch. How's that for nice?" Krycek grinds out.

"Charming." Mulder gives up, gives in and goes down. 

Krycek lets out a helpless moan and stretches out his limbs as Mulder's impossibly soft hot mouth closes around him. Krycek closes his eyes, giving himself up to the sensation of being engulfed in a velvet lined furnace that is trying to part him from his cock and his sanity. Mulder is a hooker at this, there's no other way of describing it. He keeps changing the pace and texture of his movements: sucking hard, then swirling away into rapid licks, then making his mouth into a loose wet caress, then glinting his teeth over the most sensitive parts, then swallowing him whole, his nose buried in the muscle of Krycek's stomach. 

Then his hands get in on the act. He starts smoothing over the front of Krycek's thighs, then between them. Krycek spreads his legs a little, pushing his hips up into Mulder's incredible kiss. Mulder starts stroking the silky hair on Krycek's balls, lifting them and letting them drop, over and over. Krycek squirms under him. Mulder makes the touch of his mouth gentle, and squeezes firmly on Krycek's scrotum, then makes his mouth a torment of heat and pressure, and his touch a vague drift of fingertips. Turn and turn about. Krycek doesn't want him to ever stop, but if he doesn't stop right now Krycek is going to lose his mind. Worse than that. He's gonna lose his wad.

Krycek gets hold of two handfuls of Mulder's soft hair and pulls his head away. 

"Wait a second..." Krycek manages to pant out, and laughs a little.

Mulder comes crawling over him, back to his mouth, and does another blitzkrieg kiss. This time Krycek is ready for him, and gives as good as he gets. This time it's Krycek that gets away and moves down Mulder's neck, kissing and biting. Mulder is gasping for air, throwing his head back, smiling helplessly.

"So how do you want to do this?" Mulder asks, his voice strained along with his throat.

Krycek doesn't answer. He has his mouth full of Mulder's shoulder.

"Krycek. Who's going on top?" Mulder's insistent demand finally gets through the haze of desire surrounding Krycek, who lets go of Mulder's shoulder and lifts his head to put his face close to Mulder's.

"Don't you think we should be on first name terms at this stage?"

"Excuse me?"

"Quit callin' me 'Krycek' or I'll set Rachel on you. It sounds stupid. Having sex with someone and calling them by their surname. My name is Alex, as I think you know."

"Alex." Mulder murmurs out the name, his eyes closing briefly, as if the shape of the word in his mouth feels pleasurable.

"That's better. And I'll call you-"

"No way. I hate it. It's so dumb."

"There's nothing dumb about it. It's cool."

"Rachel thinks it cool? She's weirder than I thought."

"Rachel thinks it's cool, I think it's cool. We rate the way you flick open your ID and go 'Special Agent Fox Mulder'. We really rate the way you stood outside the Uniblonder's front door and said really softly: 'Fox Mulder'. I'm tellin' you, if you quit answering the phone with 'Mulder' and start saying 'it's Fox', Rachel would have you communing with the alien and taking Samantha to lunch in two seconds flat."

"Fox Mulder. Special Agent Fox Mulder. Fox. That's me. I'm Fox. It's Fox." Mulder tries out the name experimentally. It doesn't seem as stupid as usual. If he tries hard he can give it Native American shadings. With 'Mulder' attached it has pleasant Germanic tones. "Fox."

"Fox." It sounds even better in Krycek's warm gravelly voice.

"Fox. That's my name. Fox. You can call me Fox. Hi, I'm Fox."

"What did you say your name was?" Krycek is running his hands down Mulder's body, between his legs, one hand stroking into the crease of his ass.

"Fox. Cool, isn't it?"

"Deeply." Krycek gets one finger into Mulder, twists it. Mulder gasps and groans.

"Fff...uck."

"Roll over."

"I'm rolled." Mulder turns on his stomach, his arms folded under his face. He feels Krycek move behind him. Suddenly he thinks of something and turns his head to look at Krycek, frowning.

"Shit. Do we have anything to use as-" 

"Relax. Rachel wouldn't leave us with matched hard ons and no slick."

"Don't tell me. Astroglide. The only thing that crap greases is the wheels of fanfic."

"Nope. She ain't cheap. She gave me some of the real stuff. Her own personal supply."

"No shit. What does she use it for? I thought she was too rampant to need help."

"To grease the wheels of the skateboard, stupid."

"Oh. Right."

"You wanna discuss Rachel or you wanna fuck?" Krycek is smoothing handfuls of lubricant over himself, trying not to masturbate while he does so, then into the crease of Mulder's ass.

"Eh...that's a tough one...let me - THINK!" Mulder yelps as Krycek gets a finger into him and pushes in hard, draws back and puts two fingers together, pushes them in hard. "Oh fuck." Mulder flexes his shoulders and arms, pressing himself into the blanket beneath him, rocking his hips slightly, then raising his ass a fraction, offering himself to Krycek's probing fingers. Krycek is twisting and turning his fingers, and Mulder feels his brain roll over. 

"Did you say 'fuck'?" Krycek gets his knees between Mulder's legs, pushing them further apart. 

"Fuck yeah." Mulder groans it out. If Krycek doesn't get a move on Mulder's going to get nasty. Thankfully Krycek does get a move on. As if he's suddenly realized he has to be somewhere shortly, he gets one hand between Mulder's stomach and the blanket and raises him up a little higher, then slides his fingers out of Mulder's ass. Mulder feels the smooth cool well slicked head of Krycek's erection pressing at his asshole, and Krycek's smooth cool well slicked fingers closing around his cock. And Krycek starts sliding. In. Up. Down. Around. Over. 

Pleasure as bright as pain. Pain as warm as pleasure. For an instant Mulder can't figure out which part is the pain and which is the pleasure and so he can't decide how to escape, and then it all resolves itself into one bright warm pleasure/pain intensity, and the only method of escape is to press back onto Alex's cock and lean forward into Alex's hands and hope for the best. Better than the best.

Alex moves with a sensuality that is almost appalling. He doesn't fuck with his cock, he fucks with his entire body. Each plunge and withdraw is accompanied by a long deep shuddering sigh, and the hand he leans on, beside Mulder's head, is flexing and twisting the blanket in his long fingers. His other hand roves over Mulder's long muscled back, caressing, kneading, clawing. Each stroke is powered by a sleek lift and slide of his hips that rubs his stomach over Mulder's ass and onto his spine. At the top of each stroke he rocks slightly, pushing though he's pushed as far as he can go already, lifting Mulder's ass off the blanket, then letting him go again.

Mulder feels like he's being annihilated. He's being wiped out. Wiped away. He doesn't exist. Fox Mulder. There's no such person. There's a body that's lying face down under Alex Krycek being fucked into sweet oblivion, but that's all. Clenching his fists in the blanket and trying not to start screaming or swearing he plunges his head, clenching his eyes tight shut, breathing in harsh ragged gasps.

"How's that? Is that okay?" Krycek's voice is like broken glass in acacia honey. 

"Oh...Chrr..ist. Yeah, that's okay. Just about." Mulder groans.

"Fuck you." Krycek takes the 'just about' as a challenge and starts to work harder, each stroke becoming a near death experience. 

"Oh Jesus Christ." Mulder's voice sharpens up. There's light at the end of the tunnel. Something serious is going to happen to him. It's possible that it's just going to be an orgasm, but Mulder thinks it's more likely to be the revelation of the ages. His balls and cock feel like they're drawing up into mean fists, and his ass would be doing the same but Alex is pounding into it and forcing it to stay open and helpless. And the sense of open and closed and hard and helpless is putting him right on the edge. On the edge. On it. Come on. COME ON.

"Oh Christ. I can't come. I don't believe this. I can't come." Mulder's voice is a fragmented mixture of ecstasy and desperation. 

"Hold on Fox, just hold on. I'm right there, just hold on." 

As an answer it doesn't make a huge amount of sense, but as an option it's the best suggestion Krycek could make. Mulder gets two fresh handfuls of blanket and holds on for dear life. He toys momentarily with trying to tip his hips away from Alex a little to reduce the depth of the fucking he's taking, but that seems to only intensify his condition. The best he can do is keep gulping air and writhing himself even more open and even more exposed to Alex and pray that something will send him over the edge physically before he goes over the edge mentally. 

"Yeah, oh yeah." Alex is starting to lose the perfect rhythm, the carefully judged angle of attack. He's just hacking out each separate stroke by luck and instinct now. The hand that was caressing and massaging Mulder's back is on his shoulder now, fingers biting into the muscle, pulling Mulder back hard onto him. The hand he was leaning on swoops up and gets hold of Mulder's other shoulder. Mulder thrusts himself up onto his knees, driving back against Alex, trying to force himself wide open for him, trying to complete the task of destroying himself against Alex's savage passion. 

"Fuck. Fuck yeah. Oh fuck." Alex's voice twists and turns and glitters and tears like a blade. "Oh fuck it. Fuck it. Right there. Yeah. Fox. That is fucking incredible. Oh..." 

He loses rhythm completely, makes a couple more blind faltering thrusts, arches up from Mulder's back, and cries out. A shout of delight. Mulder feels the pulse start somewhere back behind him where Krycek has his head thrown back and his mouth open, and then it travels like lightening through the air and ends up in Alex's cock which pulses hard in Mulder's ass and Mulder feels the pump of semen like petrol being thrown on a blazing fire. Mulder writhes and cries out, pleasure and desperation clawing at him. As Krycek lets his grip on Mulder's shoulders soften and slide, as he leans forward, letting his sweat slicked chest rest on Mulder's sweat slick back, Mulder gets his hand down to his own cock, his fingers closing around his almost bursting erection. But Alex reaches around his waist and pushes his hand away.

"You don't need to do that." Krycek's voice is ravaged.

"Okay. Do it for me."

"You don't get it. You don't need to."

Mulder tries to writhe away from Alex, but Alex is still inside him and still filling him. 

"I can't come. I can't. I need to jerk off. If I don't come I'm going to lose my mind." Mulder's voice has caught something of Krycek's husky tone. 

"Fox." The name is a caress. Krycek leans his weight on one hand again, the other looping around Mulder's shoulder, bringing it to Krycek's lips. "Try to relax."

"Easy for you to say. You've had your - Jesus, it's her, isn't it? Mother of God, she's fucking with my sexual responses now. She's going to leave me here in a pre-orgasm hell for the rest of my life." Mulder has tears in his eyes, but he's unsure if they're due to anger or despair or the pressure of his not quite there climax squeezing his balls.

"Fox." This time the tone is firmer, compelling Mulder's attention. "Just relax. Stay with me. You're going to love this. I swear."

Mulder is shaking, but he nods once, and tries to resettle his weight on his two hands. "Okay. Go for it."

"Okay." Krycek starts to move, very slowly, very tentatively. His erection is fading fast, and he is bathed in his own cooling semen mixed with the lavish application of lubricant. If he tries to move hard or fast or much he's going to slip out entirely. The burning furious tightness of Mulder's ass is knocking out a steady hum of ashy pleasure along his already scorched nerves. If he's careful and lucky he might make half a dozen of these small strokes before he loses his hard on entirely.

For one second Mulder realizes that this is not going to work. No way is Alex's gentle slippy burnt out movement going to send him over the sky high wall between himself and his orgasm. 

"AHH!"

It's like a firestorm exploding in his head. It starts at the back of his skull and rushes forwards, consuming everything in its way till it reaches the inside of his facial bones and wrenches his mouth open and escapes in a sharp jagged cry. Then the second blast hits, exploding again at the back of his head and searing down his spine, into his tailbone, into his ass, opening him up like a shockwave so that Alex catches his breath and leans into him, and Mulder pushes back blindly onto him and makes him groan out in pleasure. The third one ignites in his belly and blazes forwards into his balls and tears itself inside out and then scoops him up and throws him out through the opening in his cock. Semen like liquid fire pumping out of him, pounding, over and over. It's going on forever. If he wasn't mad he'd be afraid. This can't be right, it can't be normal. He has long enough to tear his attention away from his orgasm to Alex writhing against his back and whooping out loud, and then return to the sensation of cum still jacking out of him.

At last, just as the spasms threaten to turn to fiery pain, they fade and die. Mulder slides down onto his belly, his face buried in the rucked up folds of the blanket. Alex slides away from him, wrenching a low moan of exhausted pleasure from Mulder, and leans over him on one elbow.

"Fox. Are you okay?" Krycek asks, laughing.

"NO. I could have been killed. She's out of her fucking mind." Mulder can't quite stifle his own laughter in the blanket. He manages to raise himself up on his elbows. He meets Krycek's eyes and grins broadly. "That was fucking unbelievable. Worth waiting for."

"So you have been waiting for it?"

" *That would be me. Krycek. Alex Krycek.* " Mulder's voice, husked and brutalized by passion, allows him to do a quite passable impression of Krycek's way of speaking.

"That long, huh?" Krycek starts nuzzling gently at Mulder's mussed up hair, at the ear under the mussed up hair.

"Longer than that. I was crazy about you before I met you." Mulder laughs weakly. "Oh man. I may never have sex again. It's got to be downhill all the way from here."

"Don't you believe it." Krycek is making little kisses in the soft mass of Mulder's hair. 

"So what happens now?"

"Well, I don't see Rachel setting us up together with a white poodle and a set of Greek tableware, but I think we can work something out. Maybe Nicole can talk some sense into her."

"Nicole. I love that woman. The divine Nicole B." Mulder stretches his throat out to one side and makes a little kissing motion with his mouth.

"Of course you love her. She writes you like a FBI DeValmont. With me as Cecile."

"You are. Innocent. So innocent. Virginal..." Mulder is laughing and growling and turning around to make teeth snapping gestures at Krycek.

"Fuck off," Krycek says cordially. "If Nicole hadn't started with her fanfic challenge Rachel would have had you at the end of a wiretap listening to me screwing Scully senseless."

"Sounds good to me."

"I left out the angsting. You would have been puking with angst."

"Blah. So what's going to happen if that's off the agenda?" 

"No idea. I don't think Rachel knows either. I think this whole thing was kind of a spur of the moment idea."

"So what do we do? Lie here and wait for her to get inspired?"

"Nah. I guess we better get back to work."

"Alex, we're stuck. We're buried alive in a concrete coffin." Mulder says it in the same tone he'd use to say 'you'll have to drink it black, there's no milk'.

"No we're not. Just click your heels and say 'there's no place like Pennsylvania Avenue' three times and when you open your eyes you'll be in your office."

"You're joking."

"No way. She's toying with the idea of becoming a lesbian, so she's hot on Judy Garland references."

"Well. I guess I better get back then. What about you? Where do you go from here?"

"I'm a 'there's no place like Washington Boulevard'. I have a date to see CancerMan in my Pentagon office and give him a reaming."

Mulder laughs a dirty laugh.

"Fuck you Fox. I mean verbally. Just because Rachel's being nicer to you, that doesn't mean things have changed between her and me. You just learnt that on your hands and knees."

"Learnt what?" Mulder is regretfully sitting up, dragging his clothes out of the corner and trying to disentangle them. Krycek kneels up too, and puts his arms around Mulder, easing in for one last kiss. But before he gives in to Mulder's approaching mouth he says sweetly:

"No matter how much Rachel likes you, I'll always come first for her."

THE END!!! Hee hee!

   


End file.
